


Queen of the Conquest

by Nyx_Fedra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Hermione Granger, Death Eaters, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Implied/Referenced Torture, Manipulation, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Minor Character Death, Multi, Powerful Draco Malfoy, Powerful Hermione Granger, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Second War with Voldemort, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyx_Fedra/pseuds/Nyx_Fedra
Summary: Sixth Year. Canon divergent.War is looming and Hermione has had enough of being dismissed by everyone. She doesn’t know what’s going on with Malfoy, but she’s sure they can come to an agreement. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and she won’t let anyone make a fool out of her any longer.Or, what happens when Hermione Granger decides to take matters into her own hands.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 42
Kudos: 135





	1. I don’t like your little games

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the dark Hermione side of the Dramione fandom. 
> 
> English is not my first language so all mistakes are my own.

## 

## Part One: Birds of Prey

_One of these days a-coming,_

> _I’m gonna take that boy’s crown_
> 
> _There’s a serpent in these still waters_
> 
> _lying deep down_
> 
> _To the king, I will bow,_
> 
> _At least for now_
> 
> _One of these days a-coming,_
> 
> _I’m gonna take that boy’s crown_
> 
> \- A Little Wicked, Valerie Broussard

### Chapter one: I don’t like your little games

It happens on the first day of their sixth year.

Hermione was an understanding person, she would have given Harry space, empathy, for his loss of Sirius. But as they disagreed about Malfoy and his alleged new position as a Death Eater, he and Ron _once again_ weaponised their friendship, used it as a leverage to punish her, to isolate her until she, _once again_ , could bend to their will, agree with them and be once more the walking encyclopaedia and homework-cheat-sheet they liked her to be. Because they liked her agreeing, compliant, reliant, at their disposal.

Just this time, _this time_ , Hermione saw through their little game. Something inside her snapped, overflowed, and it screamed _enough._

The anger exploded in her, burning everything in its wake. The fact that they thought they were in the right, that they could treat her in such a way and do no wrong because they were her friends, making everything far, far worse. And she’d let them do this to her, for years.

 _Bullshit_.

Her mother had sat her down during the summer, deeming her old enough to talk, to hear her parents’ worries about the school and the professors that seemed hell bent on pushing her into danger, in a dereliction of duty her mother didn’t know how to address as she was so painfully cut off from her world. It had awaken something in Hermione, not only anger, but also a _hunger_ she didn’t completely understand.

It changed her prospective on things somehow, because as the winds of war blowed stronger and stronger, she felt hopeless, like a chess piece in a game she had no control over. And she _hated_ it. She was tired of being helpless. She wanted _more_ , she wanted to take control again. But Harry and Ron saw nothing wrong with it, with the Order barely moving even with Voldemort moving out in the open, with Dumbledore acting as if he knew what to do and then doing nothing until the threat of death was right in front of them in the form of a Death Eater’s wand pointed in their face.

As Harry and Ron gave her the silent treatment in the compartment of Hogwarts Express they shared, Hermione took a deep breath and then got up With a spell she shrunk her trunk, tucked in the pocket of her robe and left. As the door slid close behind her, it felt monumental, it felt like most difficult thing she had ever done. Hermione took a step and then another, moving farther and farther away from them, growing more and more resolute as the distance between them stretched.

Five years of friendship, a part of her wanted to mourn. Five years of being insulted for what she was passionate about, of being used and punished by them in the name of friendship when she didn’t comply with whatever they happened to believe at the time, making them tumble in half-assed plans that always greatly endangered their lives.

‘They’re not friends if they make you feel bad about yourself’ her mother had repeated for years, but the words finally settled into her brain only after what had happened at the Department of Mystery, after they had pushed and pushed until she complied with a reckless and crazy plan that almost got her killed. _Dumb luck_ was the only thing that had prevented Dolohov from killing her. Not the Order, not the Aurors, not Harry, Ron, or anyone else, just sheer luck, coincidence, happenstance, a series of event over which she had no control over and that ended up granting her survival only because someone silenced Dolohov at the right moment, before he thought about cursing her. Had he not been silenced, had he been silenced too late, she would have died deep into the bowels of the Ministry, the thought making her anger spike again.

Not to mention that the complete and utter disregard for her injury that Harry and Ron had showed her afterwards, just because she wasn’t bleeding all over the floor, had served as reminder for her of the true extent of how self centred they both were, how utterly stupid and _ignorant_ they still remained about magic after fiver years. They had access to all the best resources to learn just as she did, they knew of the dangers coming as much as she did, but while she tried to prepare herself, they had done _nothing_ , learned _nothing_ , relying on her and on basic spells such as _expelliarmus_ and _bombarda_ , as if they would somehow help them against wizards twice their age and with a vastly superior knowledge of magic and the dark arts. The worst thing was that no one seemed to think there was something wrong with it.

If, like Dumbledore insisted, Harry really was the only hope against Voldemort, then they were all fucked.

Hermione, most strongly, did not want to end up dead because of Harry Potter’s stupidity. He had no right to condemn her to such a fate after everything she had done for him, everything she’d given up, everything she’d suffered and everything she had been ready to suffer. She would have forgiven him if he had shown even the slightest inclination to learn more, to prepare himself, instead he fixated on the few spells he knew and called it a day, believed it was more than enough.

After walking almost the entire length of the train, Hermione found a place in a compartment that Luna was sharing with two other Ravenclaw girls, and she remained quiet for the rest of the journey, eyes lost outside of the window, her mind spinning, thinking, finally free of constraints of she didn’t even know she had put on herself. Hermione had always found Luna annoying, but to see how unaffected she was by what other thought of her created in Hermione more sympathy for the Ravenclaw than even infiltrating the Ministry together had. She had stuck with Ron and Harry for so long because she was terrified of being alone, she didn’t want to be the weird bookworm who spent her days alone and scorned even in a world that was filled with magic, that was, for all intent and purposes, hers for the taking. She would not compromise herself anymore, sacrifice part of her for other’s sake, to fit in the distorted idea other had of her so to be accepted. She could be herself, and she could be strong, even if she had to remain alone for a time. If she wanted a future in which she could have control on her life, in which she could have a possibility to archive all that she wanted to achieve, a future at all, she had to fight for it. Hermione would not allow old men and their stupid wars they wanted her to fight for them determine her future and her present any longer.

Afterwards, while the first time Hermione saw the Thestrals that pushed the carriages up to the castle, an idea started to blossom in her brain.

* * *

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had never been on friendly terms, yet something had started between them immediately in their first year, even before she became friend with Harry and Ron after they rescued her from the troll. When they shared a class and she answered a question correctly, or perfectly executed a spell, while the few who were paying attention rolled their eyes at her eagerness, Draco Malfoy would look at at her carefully, evaluating her words, her wand movements, before trying to outdo her when the next question was asked.

It quickly became a routine of sorts, even through all that happened, that kept happening, every time they shared a class, he would mock her about her know-it-all attitude before trying to do better than her, to get his hands up faster so to be called first. Every time one of them answered correctly, or perfectly executed a spell, they would turn towards the other with a smug grin on their face, a challenge. They were competitive, it was their thing, something that most of the time felt as if it existed outside of reality, outside of the life and death fight that was quickly escalating around them. He made fun of her eagerness often enough, of her blood status, but more than an attack per se, it was something she knew very well he did to try and throw her off balance, always calculating, a true Slytherin. He knew to hit where it would hurt, in her fear that her love for learning would leave her friendless, because hadn’t Ron been annoyed by it and dragged Harry in it too at the beginning? Malfoy remembered that as well as she did. It was a piece of him she could never quite place in the detail definition she had of him in her head: rich, arrogant, whiny, charming when he wanted to be, calculating, but also smart, observing, competitive, somewhat quick to anger when his family was under attack.

While she’d spied on him with Harry, she hadn’t shared his ideas about Malfoy becoming a Death Eater, and if he had actually become one, Hermione had tried to point out that it might not have been out of his desire to do so. He didn’t look like the type of person that liked to bow to someone else, even if his father had done so. Draco Malfoy had been raised to believe he deserve to be at the top, and something like that was very hard to unlearn, even despite his father’s tumble into Azkaban for Voldemort. Her argument with Harry and Ron about it had been the catalyst for something that had been long coming, and as she had started to carefully allow herself to plan something in her head in order to take back control of her destiny, Malfoy remained somewhat in her mind. As she looked around the Great Hall during dinner after the sorting ceremony, Hermione ignored Harry and Ron ignoring her, completely disinterested in their game. She had things to do, to evaluate, calculate, and she tried to look at the students, especially the older ones, wondering who could she possibly rely on, who could she ally herself with, who would welcome a partnership. Being with Harry and Ron for so long had not helped her make more friends, they all came just because of Harry, because they knew her reputation and they needed something from her. Nothing more.

Hermione was well aware of her academic ranking at Hogwarts, no one came close to her in Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff, not even in Ravenclaw because while its House members were definitely smart, they mostly fixated on a single subject rather than magical theory as a whole. So her gaze obviously fell on the Slytherin table, as Draco Malfoy had always been right behind her when it came to marks, even surpassing her in potions on multiple occasions, and not because of Snape’s prejudice as Harry had often claimed.

It was ridiculous that she should even be _thinking_ of sharing her barely-formed idea with him, he would laugh in her face, but as he stayed silent during dinner, mostly pushing his food from one side to the other of the plate, ignoring even Pansy Parkinson, Hermione couldn’t stop thinking of what it would be like to talk to him about something that wasn’t her blood, or Harry. Now that she could think about it somewhat rationally, she could say without a doubt that he hated her because of her friendship with Harry. After all, she had never heard him call anyone but her a mudblood, and afterwards, as she prepared for bed, Hermione looked forward to the next day, to their shared classes, to fall back into the comforting routine of their academic sparring, hoping for more clarity in this uncharted territory she was about to enter.

How could she do such a monumental thing? Take back her life as great dark and non-dark wizards moved pieces she couldn’t even see?

For all she _had_ seen, for all she had debated with Harry, she’d never thought that reality would take away even that small bubble of academic rivalry between her and Malfoy, but as the first day of her sixth year progressed, it became increasingly clear that it had. At the first class they shared together that year, Ancient Runes, she went in prepared for another one of their clashes, and ended up leaving almost worried, feeling uneasy. Malfoy was distracted, he answered no questions, took no notes, and looked… sad. The boy who’d mocked her, who’d fought her in every subject, who’d laughed and joked and boasted with his friends, now looked like the shell of himself, worse than when she’d spied on him with Harry.

That was how she knew something was wrong to him, that Harry was right, that something _had_ happened, but not in the way he imagined, or so she thought. She watched him walk alone in the corridors, avoiding Crabbe and Goyle, not speaking to Parkinson, not even Zabini and Nott. Had they shunned him after what happened with his father? Not everyone in Slytherin had parents connected to Death Eaters, and not all pureblood children were in Slytherin, Hermione was well aware of the fact, even though Harry seemed to constantly forget about it, even after experiencing Pettigrew’s betrayal.

Speaking of Harry, he was not so-subtly following Malfoy, making him even more uneasy. He already looked pale, sick, and having the Chosen One follow him and glare at him in the corridors only seemed to make it worse. Hermione spent the next two weeks watching him, watching Harry following him, thinking and thinking about what she could do among the likes of Voldemort and Dumbledore. Old stupid men who let other people fight their wars, the angry part of her mind kept repeating in circles, spurring her on. Out of spite, out of anger.

She could do _something_ , she was sure of it. She just needed the perfect ally. It couldn’t rely all on Harry, he’d been chosen out of pure chance, not personal achievement. She couldn’t even trust Dumbledore’s opinion on Harry’s role as she knew very well by now how the headmaster had the vice of keeping a lot of things to himself until the very last minute. She needed to act smoothly, to see the threads of power and slowly untangle herself from underneath them. Voldemort wasn’t strictly for pureblood ideals, he had too many halfbloods following him, but he kept purebloods extremely close, tried to make them as happy as he could, which meant he needed something from them others didn’t have: it could only be money. Which meant money was how he had infiltrated the Ministry in the first war, how he probably planned to do once more, even despite the fact that his most loyal supporter, who also had the biggest vault at Gringotts, was now behind bars.

Hermione huffed. It always came back to the Malfoys.

Malfoy being the only one in the school who could match her intellectual, Malfoy’s father being the primary bankroller for Voldemort’s plans, and… what had Harry said, after that time he had to go in front of the Wizengamort? Lucius Malfoy had been there, lobbying, showing the extent of his influence, because the Malfoys were the key: they had power, charm, money and influence in society, Narcissa’s End of the Year Ball something that had been cancelled from society’s calendars just because of Lucius getting caught _in flagrante_.

As she’d said to Harry, if for whatever reason Lucius had knelt to Voldemort, even for all his talk about following his father, Hermione wasn’t sure Draco would do the same. He’d grown up with a golden spoon in his mouth, he was not about to be content with a silver one just because it matched his eyes and his House.

Hermione walked behind Harry as he followed Malfoy, the only difference being she was using a disillusionment charm, something the Boy-Who-Lived had not bothered to learn yet. He always had to hit his head against the wall before he learned how to avoid it. It was annoying, his lack of foresight, but his constant trailing of Malfoy was even more so, as it ended up making the Slytherin extremely anxious, even more so than he now looked on a normal basis. That would not do.

As a plan slowly started to take shape in Hermione’s mind, she finally allowed herself to admit that there was no one else that could help her like Malfoy, he was as uniquely positioned in society, just like she was, in a completely opposte way. She needed Malfoy, the old one, not this new hollow version of him that was terrorised to death, even though Harry seemed unable to see that.

She casted a non verbal sticking charm, and Harry was stuck in the middle of the corridor as she continued forward, following Malfoy in silence until he entered the prefect’s bathroom. She silently slipped inside behind him, and it was uncomfortable, almost sad, to see his face twisted by fear, a panic attack making him unbutton the first buttons of his shirt and loosen his tie, tears on his cheeks.

‘Malfoy’ she said dissolving the charm.

He jumped at her voice, and he had his wand pointed to her immediately. He wasn’t a stranger to duels, which was reassuring.

‘I just want to talk’ she said, but he raised an eyebrow, face suddenly going blank.

Occlumency.

 _Smart_.

‘Do you, now?’ he asked sarcastically.

‘Leave him alone!’ Myrtle screamed, her ghost flying out of a bathroom stall as Hermione stepped forward, as Malfoy kept his eyes fixed on her and tightened his grip on his wand.

It was a miscalculation. Never she would have expected Malfoy to behave like a cornered wild animal, he’d never been the type to do so. But whatever had been going on with him had been made worse by Harry’s constant tailing. His Occlumency fell, and she saw his intention before he casted the spell, allowing her to cast a counter curse just in time.

They battled in the bathroom for what felt like an hour but was probably nothing more than ten minutes. They ran in circles around each other as their spells shattered glass, wall tiles and pieces of ceramic from the lavatories exploding and falling on the floor, until Hermione finally managed to get near him, a hand fisting his shirt as his wand pointed at her hear, her wand at his throat.

‘What do you want? Just leave me alone!’ he screamed, and she could see it clearly now, the desperation in his eyes, how pale and tired he’d become, the bags under his eyes so marked it was like someone had drawn circles with a marker on his skin.

‘I didn’t come here to fight you’ she said trying to keep her voice even and calm, and he seemed to be taken aback by that, stumbling on his feet and dragging her down with him.

As they fell on the ground, kneeling in front of each other, Hermione barely had the presence of mind to send a spell to clear the floor, so that pieces of broken ceramic and glass wouldn’t hurt their legs.

Malfoy was breathing heavily, the panic attack returning, his hand shaking around his wand and Hermione took the opportunity to speak.

‘I really just want to talk, what it is going on with you?’

They were standing in the shattered remains of the bathroom, Myrtle hiding somewhere, her whimpers of fear ricocheting off the walls, and before Hermione could stop herself, she reached for his left forearm.

Malfoy was paralysed, looking more scared than she had ever seen him as he watched her hands roll up the sleeve of his shirt and then move around the mark, tracing the serpent, the skull, with her fingers before her hands moved back down, holding his.

‘Oh, _Malfoy_ ’ was all she said, and Hermione could see the moment he flinched at her sympathy. He tried to take his hand away, but she strengthened her grip.

This wasn’t good news by any means, she hadn’t wanted it to be true, but if his reaction was anything to go by, then she had been right, and Harry had been wrong, as always. He hadn’t taken the mark voluntarily.

It was her chance, if she wanted him as an ally she could use this in her favour. She had to carefully choose her words, because despite how much she disliked admitting it, her future, her hope for her to be free of Voldemort and Dumbledore’s machinations rested in Draco Malfoy siding with her. He was a perfect combination of everything she needed, her mind, her newfound ruthlessness alongside his wealth and connection, not to mention their intellect, would make them unmatched, she was certain of it.

‘This is unfair, isn’t it? Doesn’t it make you want to do something?’

‘What can I do? I can barely… I…’ his eyes were full of tears, but he stopped himself immediately, clearly reluctant to share his thoughts with her. She kept going regardless.

‘Do you not wish things were different? A different world? One in which professors don’t hand me artefacts the possession of which is forbidden to the general public so that I can attend more classes, almost burning out? One where I do not have to listen to Harry go crazy every night trying to decipher the words of an old man because he loves to speak in riddles even when the goddamned house in on fire? One is supposed to become more wiser with age but all that Dumbledore seems to have done is become more irritating’

‘Are you alright, Granger?’ she had his attention now, fear turning to confusion on his face.

‘I’m perfectly fine. Actually, I feel great, like I’ve finally woken up. Do you not wish to change things?’

‘I don’t even know if I can survive this’ he admitted, his shoulder slouched, defeated. She couldn’t have that.

‘You can. And do you know why? Because we’re done playing by their rules, their games. If they want a war they can bloody well fight in it themselves, but I’m not letting a group of stupid old men ruin my life. I won’t let them do to that to me, I refuse, _I refuse,_ Malfoy, to go down without a fight’

‘Oh, you definitely went crazy’ he said trying to pry his hand free form hers again, but her grip was firm.

‘ _Malfoy_. I know we’ve never been on the same side, on the same team, but we are… you must recognise that there is no one like us. It’s time to let the past die, because I won’t let them make a fool out of me, I’m tired of being dismissed, and I think, if we do this together, we may very well end up on top’ it was freeing to finally let out those thoughts, to share them with someone else, someone who could understand, who wouldn’t mock her, scold her, for her hunger, he willingness to fight even a little bit dirty if necessary.

‘Why don’t you go to Potter and Weasel with your stupid plan!’ he sneered, a bit of the old Malfoy she knew shining through, making her smile.

‘I’m not on speaking terms with them anymore’

‘Oh, so I’m the rebound? Trying to make them jealous? You should have said so’ he tried to smirk, but his cheeks were still covered in tears, and it was hard not to see it as a desperate attempt at trying to control himself.

‘I’m not. You were always my first choice, there’s no one else but you that I can do this with’ he was shocked by her words. Malfoy looked at her carefully and then he looked down, at her hands still holding his, at the Dark Mark on his forearm, impossible to ignore on his pale skin.

‘He’s going to kill my family if I fail! What the fuck are you proposing to do about that? He can’t even be killed!’ Malfoy seemed on the verge of tears again, fear in his eyes and his voice that only made Hermione more resolute, more sure about her choice.

‘ _Ah_ , so you’ve _thought_ about _that_. It doesn’t matter. He has power only as long as we allow him to have power. Dumbledore used to say that about his name, but of course he never once tried to turn it into practice. You’re Draco Malfoy, you’re filthy rich, you have influence because of your family name and the only reason you’re like this now is because your father decided to bow, but you don’t have to do that as well. We can turn this, tilt the stage right under their feet. They say I’m the brightest witch of our age, you’re not so bad yourself, and together, I think we might get away with it’

‘What do you even have in mind? Shouldn’t you go to Potter with this?’ he was still trying to be sarcastic, but she saw his mind work behind it. He was evaluating her, calculating if he really had a fighting change with her. She respected that. He was probably trying to assess why she wasn’t offering protection to him and his family with the Order, so she had to make her case.

‘He wouldn’t get it. No one would but you, because this isn’t about ‘taking a stand’ or whatever, I won’t play nice, I won’t be polite, not when they ask that in bad faith from me whilst going for our throats’ she said, and Malfoy twisted his mouth as if he’d eaten something sour.

‘I’m already shackled, if not dead’

‘You’re not, I told you, we are the best and brightest the wizarding world has to offer, and I won’t defer to them any longer. I won’t let them kill me’

He took his time to think over her words. His hand was cold in hers as his grey eyes looked over her, trying to determine what she was doing, if he could risk it.

‘What are you planning?’ he asked in the end, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile, taking a deep breath before continuing.

‘Oh, you’re gonna love this, Malfoy. They think you’re a mean, coward boy who can be controlled with fear, and they think I’m just a girl who loves books and is a nuisance about it. They’ll never see us coming.’

Something shifted in him when he saw her expression, he shook his head and finally freed his hand for hers, standing up on shaky legs and moving his hands in his hair restlessly.

‘Merlin, you went mad. What the fuck, Granger! What the fuck!’

‘It’s a yes or no question’ she exclaimed standing up as well.

‘I don’t even know what you’re talking about!’

‘If you could just stop being so fucking scared for a second!’

‘You think I can just stop? When his fucking mark is on me?’ he screamed almost pushing the mark in her face, making her flinch.

‘Yes, I do’ she said trying to be firm, even though she understood his fear, his reluctance to try and carve a path beside the two that they had been told existed: the Order of the Death Eaters.

‘Just _stop_! Stop talking!’ he exclaimed pressing his head in his hands, almost shaking.

He was crying again and the sight made Hermione overwhelmed with anger. He needed to wake up, he needed to go back being himself, what had they done to him? Why was he bending so easily? Being mean, screaming at him, had definitely not been part of her plan. She’d wanted to convince him with sound arguments, but as the plan was still a tangled mess of intention more than clear steps even in her mind, it was difficult to make him as resolute as she was. It was no surprise it ended with them arguing.

‘When did you become such a pathetic coward, is it because of your father?’ it was probably one of the meanest thing she’d ever said to him, especially given his situation.

In a moment, Malfoy’s hand was around her throat, pushing her down until she fell hard on the cold stone floor, his body over hers, caging her in.

‘Are you trying to get me killed?’ he hissed, fury in his silver eyes.

 _There you are_ , she thought.

Hermione laughed, her hand over his on her throat, slowly moving up, on his wrist, his arm, until she could brush her fingers and her palm on his face, in his hair. He had no business being this pretty, even if it seemed like he hadn’t slept in months.

He shivered under he touch, blinking in confusion, his hold on her throat faltering before she fisted his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt.

‘Listen to me’ she said, her voice full on anger once again. He’d been scared enough, now it was time to react, time to go back to the cocky and mean rich boy she needed him to be.

‘We are powerful, more powerful than even we know. Certainly more powerful than they think we are. It’s time for us to embrace it. I have plans, and you’re part of them, Draco Malfoy’


	2. Don’t like your tilted stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Malfoy, do you know who has charm, power and is smart and cunning?’  
> ‘You?’ he asked, words dripping with sarcasm, and she sighed.

### Chapter two: Don’t like your tilted stage

‘Let’s review what we know. This is about magic, but this is also about power. If we cut his legs, he won’t be able to move’

They were sitting on the floor of the prefects’ bathroom, Myrtle had finally stopped sobbing and from time to time she carefully peaked out of the stall she had hidden herself to look at them with fear and confusion. As she spoke, Hermione waved her wand and casted spell after spell to repair the damage created by their duel while Malfoy just looked at her, his elbows resting on his knees, a displeased expression on his face.

‘How do we do that?’ he asked as pieces of tiles flew around him, reattaching themselves to the wall.

While he had accepted to listen to her some more, he still was somewhat reluctant. She could understand that a bit better now that her feelings weren’t overwhelming, now that he, too, was more in control of himself.

‘His power comes mostly from his supporters, we take them away, we take more than half of his power. We just need to give them a better alternative’ she simply stated.

‘Us?’ he asked arching an eyebrow.

‘Us’ she agreed.

‘How are we the better alternative?’ he scoffed as he pushed himself up, rolling down the sleeve of his shirt to cover the mark. He started to pace back and fort in front of the newly repaired sinks, his reflection fractured in the shattered mirrors as he crossed his arms over his chest. She would have been irritated if she hadn’t recognised the look on his face.

Hermione had never studied Draco Malfoy particularly up close, although she knew very well how his face looked when he mocked her, when he sneered and insulted Harry, Ron and her. But there was also another expression of his she knew well, and it was the way his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed lightly as he was deep in thought. She’d seen that expression as many times as she’d seen his sneer and smirk, it was on his face every time she answered correctly and he had to pause to think about how to outdo her.

In the late afternoon light, as pieces of glass flew around him, the mirrors being repaired by yet another spell of hers, he looked less sick. He still had deep purple bags around his eyes, but the way he held himself was more close to the what she was used to, his back straight, his steps controlled and not hurried. Although his hair were not slicked back anymore, and she was surprised to find them curving in gentle waves, framing his pointy face in a rather pleasant way. Had he always been so tall?

‘We’ll make ourselves into the better choice’ she said standing up as the last cracked mirror was repaired, trying to put into words what had been spinning in her mind for weeks, the more finer edges of her ideas ‘Voldemort is old, he’s set in his ways and the world is changing’

‘He didn’t get where he is now because he’d stupid’ Malfoy snapped, and Hermione took a deep breath.

She hoped he would become more cooperative, because if they kept snapping at each other they would get nowhere.

‘No, he didn’t’ she agreed, ‘he had charm, power, and he was smart and cunning, so much so he managed to manipulate the heirs of an entire generation of purebloods to worship him and overlook his lack of said pureblood. But that was _before_. Now, he’s old in a changing world and chasing after a kid while being mildly chastised by Dumbledore’

‘Granger…’ he started, and she stopped him immediately.

‘Malfoy, do you know who has charm, power and is smart and cunning?’

‘You?’ he asked, words dripping with sarcasm, and she sighed.

‘Well, you have more charm and cunning because of your upbringing and family, but I’d say we’re pretty matched for smarts and power’

At that, Malfoy huffed out a laugh, surprising her.

‘It’s not a bad idea _per se_ , Granger. It is just an idea, though, you don’t have much’

‘ _Aut viam inveniam aut faciam_ ’ she quoted and he smirked, a little bit more of the old Malfoy she knew shining through with every moment, as she kept him distracted, as she gave him back control, kept him away from the fear.

To lash out in such a way, he must have been, and felt, extremely alone while he tried to grapple with what Voldemort had done to him and his family, with what would become of his life. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder how different things could have been if Harry had been more open, less judgmental, if Dumbledore actually cared for his students, if Hermione herself hadn’t had a change of heart… maybe they could have taken Malfoy and his mother into the Order, protect them, or maybe the Order would have just used them as spies like they used everyone else.

‘I will either find my way or make my own’ Malfoy translated, the words seemed to taste like ashes in his mouth form the way he said them.

‘I’m trying to make my own way, Malfoy. I’m dissatisfied by the lack of detail as much as you are, but the amount of insecurity was part of gamble I need to take in order to bring you in, because I cannot plan this alone’

He seemed intrigued by that, so Hermione reached for her satchel and took out the piece of parchment over which she’s scribbled the names of the people they had to challenge on both sides, handing it to him.

‘First thing first, a handsy chart of the bunch of assholes we’re dealing with’ she exclaimed moving closer.

‘You nicknamed the Dark Lord and Dumbledore dumb and dumber?’ Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her.

‘We’re workshopping’

‘Doesn’t sound like it’

‘Just look at them’ she said ignoring his comment and moving next to him so that she could point to the line she had made between the names, the relationships that entangled everyone.

‘You’re the odd one out’ Malfoy pointed out, and Hermione couldn’t disagree.

She was the only one with no family ties, no connection beside her friendship with Harry and Ron. No role in the story. She could make her own. _She would._

‘I think it can be used to our advantage’

‘It could’ he agreed ‘although you already have a bit of a reputation’

‘I’m planning to change it. We will use Hogwarts to reforge our public image, we’ve both been profiled by the Prophet in a way we don’t like’

Malfoy nodded at that, a hand following the lines on the parchment with his long fingers. It was her first time being so close to without the intention of punching him, and Hermione noticed that he smelled a bit like mint and freshly cut herbs, clean cotton. It was surprising, she’d always imagined him to be the type to bathe in expensive cologne.

‘The Longbottoms have been the ones that came out worst from the last war. They also have some grudges with the Ministry, Longbottom’s grandmother specifically as they cut several times the pension her nephew is entitled to because of what happened to his parents. Although I doubt Longbottom would want to work with me’ Malfoy said before his eyes moved to Voldemort’s side, to the names of the parents of his classmates and his family.

‘We work together, as a team’ Hermione said trying to distract him from thinking about his family, from going back to the safe path: trying to appease Voldemort hoping it would just kill him and not his mother and father.

‘You mean I get you the books you need and then play the socialite as we try to move the chess pieces? That is what you’re planning, correct?’

She nodded, ‘exactly’ but he still wasn’t convinced.

‘We’re barely into adulthood and locked away in Hogwarts, how the hell are we going to do _that_?’ Malfoy asked her while rolling up the piece of parchment and handing it back to her. He let out a deep sigh that made Hermione pause.

‘You want to do this?’ she asked cautiously, studying him, trying to understand what more he might need to accept.

‘I am… obviously interested in not dying, and it’s not the worst idea I’ve heard. I am capable of admitting you are very smart when you don’t bend backwards to be Potter and Weasel’s encyclopaedia.’

Half and insult half a compliment. The best she could hope for, really.

‘Thanks’ she replied sarcastically.

‘You’re welcome’

‘I do have more than a simple idea, it’s not like I was planning for us to duel, after all’

Those seemed the wrong thing to say, Malfoy’s anger resurfaced immediately, nostrils flaring as he moved a hand through his hair.

‘Beats me what the fuck you and Potter were on about, I thought he was going to… I don’t even know!’ he exclaimed moving restlessly towards the sinks, turning his back to her, clearly frustrated, anxiety once again rising. Damn Harry and his inexistent subtlety.

‘I had a fallout, with Harry and Ron’

‘Yeah, I am wondering what the fuck made you snap and make this!’ Malfoy gestured at the bathroom around them as if the destruction created by their duel was still visible, as if it explained everything.

‘You’ she answered truthfully, stunning Malfoy into silence. Another first.

‘We saw you and your mother in Diagon Alley’ Hermione continued, ‘Harry and Ron were sure you had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters eagerly, I disagreed. I said that even if you had taken the mark I doubted it was voluntary. I was right, of course, but Harry and Ron have a way to weaponise our friendship that just…’ she didn’t finish, a frustrated expression twisting her face no matter how much she tried to hide it.

Malfoy was studying her carefully, and Hermione forced herself to continue.

‘After the Department of Mysteries everything fell apart for me. The Order is too disorganised, Dumbledore is always hiding things until the very last moment, and they are not even trying to prepare, they rely too much on faith and dumb luck for my liking, while the Death Eaters are too arrogant and act far too publicly, threatening the Statue of Secrecy will just force them to fight on two fronts, and if MACUSA joins in…’

She didn’t need to finish, unlike Harry and Ron, Malfoy knew exactly what she was talking about. He nodded, because of course he did, he knew the failures of both sides as much as she did. After all, he had just been caught by the consequences earlier while Hermione had narrowly avoided them for the moment because Dolohov was luckily silenced at the right time.

‘You said it’s about not letting him have power, that it has nothing to do with him being immortal or whatever he is’ Malfoy said, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile.

‘Yes, when I was thinking about you I also realise that his power is linked to the support he gets from pureblood families. What we need to find is a weak link, we need to substitute the people around him with those who will be more receptive to us’

‘I can see the merit of that’

‘Then we will offer ourselves as the better alternative. He doesn’t need to die to lose power. If he becomes irrelevant, if he stops being a conduct for influence and power in society, he will just become an old man. He can hand out power and influence not because he is himself but because he surrounded himself with the most wealthy, powerful and well-connected people in society, most of whom happen to be purebloods. So we take that out of the equation and what’s left?’

’It could work, it could’ Malfoy agreed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, but Hermione already knew he had a _but_ ready.

‘But we are in Hogwarts while he’s already half done amassing power, he was already moving the pieces to get back control of the Ministry before I left, and they were _sure_ they could get it back by next year. We don’t have much time, we don’t have much of anything, I’m not even sure my name is worth something at the moment’

What Malfoy said was certainly troubling, but Hermione had already taken into consideration the way the Malfoy name had fallen in disgrace.

‘You have money, which opens more doors than a name, and we can leave Hogwarts during the weekends. To gather what we need we don’t have to be at the Ministry parties and the like, not that there are many given the situation. We just need to make the people we need listen to us, and make a persuasive case, make sure we are tempting, make sure we understand what we need to tempt them. Not to mention that being at Hogwarts is almost better than being at the Ministry. Here we have access to the close relatives of everyone who’s someone in wizarding society, from Wizegamont members to Aurors, career civil servants, and even Order members and Death Eaters. They are all here, we just need to play them right’

‘You think they will listen to their children?’ he asked, his words practically dripping with skepticism, making Hermione roll her eyes.

‘I think everyone is either scared or arrogant at the moment, we can use it in our favour’

‘Give me an example’ he asked, arms still crossed over his chest, looking down at her, listening carefully to her every word, _really listening_. It was a first, Harry and Ron had rarely reflected on her words, but Malfoy did, he studied them and her thought process. She had chosen right, if she convinced him, he would be the perfect partner in crime.

‘I heard Theodore Nott hates his father, the rumour is his father killed his mother’

‘Theo is… a gentle person, he’s not like his father’ Malfoy seemed surprised by her choice of mentioning Nott, and he also seemed a little bit upset. There was something going on there, but she brushed the thought away.

‘And would he care for revenge?’

’Salazar, isn’t there a line?’

‘Yes, not dying because of old men and their stupid wars’ Hermione exclaimed and Malfoy clenched his jaw.

‘Theo would certainly be… more receptive to your plan than his father, as he doesn’t like the Order but also despises the Death Eaters. But to get rid of his father would force him to take the mark, and I don’t think he will be up for that’

‘Well, this is why I wanted to create a partnership with you. So we can brainstorm on how to act. Carefully evaluate things. You must see that while it is very, very narrow, there is some space for us to act’

Malfoy nodded, jaw still clenched, and Hermione held her breath, waiting.

‘I don’t want to die like that’ Malfoy admitted ‘small and afraid. And while I still don’t understand what made you snap, I can admit you’re smart enough to evaluate correctly if the Order isn’t a viable option either’

‘Is that a yes?’

‘It’s a yes’ Malfoy nodded.

* * *

They were on a balcony that overlooked the main entrance that led to the Great Hall. Underneath them, students were flocking back into the castle as dusk slowly covered the Hogwarts grounds in darkness. They’d slowly moved out of the bathroom and Hermione had spent the better part of the afternoon filling Malfoy in on every idea she’d ever had in the last two weeks about how to act. They’d agreed that the first step was to manage their public image. If they could manage to control how they were perceived at Hogwarts, they would be able to manage it outside, not to mention that all the gossip would be owled back home from students, laying the groundwork for their entrance into society.

Malfoy remained vague on what Voldemort had asked of him, he just reassured her that being seen with her would be allowed, as they would think he was trying to break up Potter’s defence squad. As much as she was irritated by it, Hermione understood the reticence. He was edging his risk.

‘Give me a month to see where this is going, I will tell you then’ he asked, and she agreed.

Now, as the last lessons of the day ended, as students either left the library, the park or the classrooms to gather into the common rooms before dinner, it was the perfect time to make a spectacular entrance. Hermione almost laughed at the thought that this had always been her favourite hour in the library, when it slowly became empty, calm falling over it. She’d carved isolation once, small moments during which she could be herself instead of what her friends needed, what they wanted her to be, she’d hidden her true self away as if it was something shameful. Not anymore. Hermione was tired of hiding, tired of being complacent. She was ready to play as she stood next to a former nemesis turned ally, trying to plot their way out of other’s machinations, trying to save their lives, to make their way.

It was risky, to put all of her eggs in one basket, in Malfoy, but she’d been right in her initial assessment: she couldn’t do this with anyone else, they all lacked something. Malfoy was the perfect convergence of money, charm, status and brains.

‘So, you are really in?’ Hermione asked for the tenth time, and Malfoy sighed.

‘I am, Granger, stop asking or I will change my mind’

They watched students flock back for another minute before Hermione broke the silence between them once again.

‘Gryffindors will think you either corrupted me or that I changed you’ she said, and Malfoy smirked, his elbows resting on he railings of the balcony as the students moved underneath them.

‘Slytherins will think the same. I suppose that has it advantages, although shouldn’t you keep the Chosen One closer?’ he asked without even looking at her, and Hermione shook her head.

‘Harry and Ron are a liability, they have no method and their plans are created in the heat of the moment and based on their emotional state. Harry may be the Chosen One, but that doesn’t make him a good leader, nor good at planning, or at much, really. We’ll work around them and Dumbledore, let the headmaster make his moves and keep Voldemort distracted for us a we shift his court without him noticing’

‘You would have made an amazing Slytherin’ he smirked straightening himself up, and Hermione scoffed.

‘Well, you wouldn’t have been a bad Ravenclaw yourself’ she joked, but instead of smirking back he became suddenly serious.

‘My mother forced Snape into an Unbreakable Vow to keep me safe’ he admitted, and it surprised Hermione.

‘The wording seems far too generic’

The expression on Draco’s face was a painful one, anxiety and fear, ‘It was the best she could do’

In the silence that followed, Hermione could see him shut down once again. She couldn’t have that.

‘You understand what I am asking you, right?’ she asked, and he nodded, although she could still see the worry clouding his eyes already after mentioning his mother.

With a hand on his arm, she forced him to turn so he could face her. ‘Look at me, Draco. You’re the Slytherin Prince, _act like it_. Are you telling me you’re okay with him doing this to you, with your father…’

‘It wasn’t his fault!’ he snapped.

‘Wasn’t it? If you don’t want it to be his fault then it’s Voldemort’s. But you’re not your father. You’re smarter, cunning, powerful. You said you’re already dead, then why not go with this anyway. Worst that can happen we actually pull it off’

‘I get it, Granger’ his answer was an irritated growl, which was, in her opinion, better than the defeated tone he had when he was too anxious.

‘We are smart. Very smart’ he said in the end, and Hermione smiled victorious.

‘I’m glad you agree’

‘I could protect my family. Restore it. Take back what is mine, what is _rightfully_ mine, who even is that reptile?’ there was anger in his voice, and it widened Hermione’s smile, something rising inside her, a warm feeling of accomplishment, power.

‘Exactly.’

‘I still don’t understand why are you doing this, what pushed you?’

Malfoy was genuinely curious as he turned to her, and it surprised her that, after everything she’d told him, her motivations were still so unclear to him.

‘I’m tired of being used, I’m not some pawn to be sacrificed nor an encyclopaedia for Harry and Ron. I am me, and I might not have grown up with magic, but I am powerful. I’ll show them how powerful I am, they will never dismiss me again. Despite everything that passed between us, you always knew that, how smart I was’

‘It’s hard not to notice, you make no secret of it. I respect that about you, I’m glad you finally decided not debase yourself for Potter’ he said, yet there was more to his words than just a light joke.

‘You hated me because of Harry’

He nodded. After all, she’d noticed almost immediately that he never called anyone but her a mudblood, it was obvious what he had been trying to do: he looked for her insecurities and tried to strike there, her place in the wizarding world, her hair, her teeth…

‘I also believed what my father said for a long time, I am not Saint Potter’

‘I am very aware. Yet here you are’

‘Yet here I am’ he agreed giving one last look over the balcony, assessing the flow of students. ‘It’s time’

At that, Hermione took her wand out from the pocket of her robes and casted the spells she had practiced in her dormitory the night before. She had been forced to dismiss that part fo her, the one that cared about her appearance, in favour of a ‘ _not like other girls_ ’ attitude that she had once hoped would be enough to be Harry’s friend, that she had hoped Ron would notice. It seemed ridiculous, in retrospect, she could do both. She could be smart without rejecting her femininity to fit whatever idea Ron and Harry had of her. She could wear short skirt and know how to brew Polyjuice, _they_ were the ones who couldn’t do more. Not to mention that her looks had seemed almost irrelevant as she was always running around, trying to fix their mistakes while they just sat on their asses, but now she had to look the part. She _wanted_ to.

So while Hermione would never wear a skirt as short as Pansy’s, she wanted a shorter one, a more fitting jumper to show her curves, her hair not tamed, never tamed, but controlled, like she wanted to be in control of herself and her destiny.

There was a smirk on Malfoy’s face as he watched her transform her uniform that she had never seen before, a spark in his eyes that matched the fire that burned inside her. The hem of her skirt adjusted itself an inch over her knee, the jumper became more fitting, the robe flowing elegantly behind her and her hair half up, braided so that they wouldn’t get in her face, and half down, curls wild on her shoulders. She was about to perform the charm for some minimum make up when Malfoy stepped forward, and with a flick of his wand he did it for her, his eyes shining like silver and full of hunger, not fear.

She did that. With her mind, her words, she had mended what Voldemort had broken.

‘You look the part’ he said, clearly amused and surprised that she had planned even this.

She took out a small compact glass from her satchel and watched Malfoy’s work, her eyes immediately caught by her bright red lips.

‘Fitting, for the Gryffindor Princess’ was all he said in response to her questioning look.

‘That would be Ginny’

‘Well, then it only leaves the tile of Queen, doesn’t it? Or do you prefer when they call you Golden Girl?’

His words made her blush a little. She could see it now, how his hunger was slowly back, matching hers, despite the fear and the mark on his arm. She had given him something and he was already giving back more than anyone ever had. Harry and Ron had never done such a thing, never complimented her efforts, in fact at the Yule Ball they… no, that was _enough_. What was the point of thinking about them? They could no longer hold her back, she won’t let them, not anymore.

‘Shall we?’ Malfoy said offering her his arm.

They walked down the stairs, arms laced together, until they reached the corridor behind the entrance where the bulk of the students were. When Malfoy detangled their arms, it briefly made her panic, but after a second he moved even closer to her than before, leaning into her side as his hand was suddenly on the small of her back, leading her forward. His old expression back, the one he’d always had since he came to Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy once again walked the corridors as if they belonged to him, as if he stood above everyone and everything. But he was with her.

They belonged to _them_.

At first, no one noticed them, but then one head turned and then another, whispers growing and growing until Hermione could hear people gasp, their names clearly pronounced in shock. The crowd of students parted for them, people openly staring, pointing at them, a couple of students even falling down as their classmates pushed them hard while trying to see what the commotion was about. It was exhilarating, the power, the attention, even more than when she opened the Yule Ball with Krum, because she was Hermione Granger and he was Draco Malfoy, and everyone knew they were enemies. Yet there they were, the crowd parting to let them pass, in surprise, awe, maybe even fear, and Hermione liked it, she _loved_ it.

Queen and Prince.

Hogwarts could be their playground, they could twist it and stir it in the direction they wanted, a trial before they moved on to the wizarding world. Hermione was confident, with Draco at her side, his charm, money, influence, matched by her hunger and her mind… they could do it.

They passed Ron and Harry, practically gaping at them, and Hermione barely acknowledged them, she just smirked in their general direction. She would prove everyone wrong, she would take it back, _everything_. Pay them back for what they tried to do to her.

This wasn’t their play anymore, it was hers.

 _Her_ stage, and she would tilt it back in _her_ favour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made a playlist for the story!
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6NssnuNoQxjWMuJ34Gcf3Y?si=IzViwNuLSFyto8-GxRi0ZA&nd=1


	3. The role you made me play, of the fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You’ve flattered professors before, Granger, he’s easier than McGonagall’ Draco said dropping more ingredients into the cauldron.

### Chapter three: The role you made me play, of the fool

‘Is Potter cheating? There’s no other explanation’

At Draco’s words, the wooden stirring rod in Hermione’s hands combusted into flames, anger almost making her shake. It was the first shared potions class of the year between Gryffindors and Slytherins, and Slughorn had given them a dreamless sleep potion as their first assignment. It was a rather temperamental potion, and for someone like Harry, who had never even been able to brew even the simplest potion without making mistakes… it was suspicious, _extremely so_ , that his brew seemed to proceed so smoothly.

‘ _Yes_ ’ she hissed, and Draco hummed in disapproval next to her, his eyes going back to the cutting board.

‘I am once again proven right in my hate of him’ Draco said as he kept cutting methodically, summoning another wooden rod to replace the one she had burned in anger. Their brew had been the only one that proceeded smoothly from the start, before they both noticed the lack of sounds of distress from the table Harry and Ron shared on the other side of the classroom.

‘We need to get into the Slug Club, the opportunity for networking…’ she said trying to calm her anger.

How dare Harry cheat? All of his words about hating Snape for favouritism, the years he spent nagging her to help him, and then he dared to try and beat her and Draco by _cheating_? It was hard to calm down, and Draco seemed to notice.

‘We practically have a guaranteed spot in it, Granger, don’t worry. But as you said, Potter is not the most stable emotionally. We need smooth dinners to network’

‘You have experience with that’ she noted, thankful for the distraction his words provided. She forced her eyes away from Harry, who was reading the textbook carefully (a first), and Ron, who just stood behind Harry glaring at her and Draco.

It was a first for her too, not being expected to do all the work, but Draco was extremely prickly when it came to brewing, he needed things to be done his way, so he asked her to mostly assist him until they could work out how to better cooperate. Although, truth be told, Hermione never liked potions quite like him, and she recognised how the careful movements and concentration required calmed him, it kept his mind away from worry, his jaw relaxed for a moment. Among many first, it was also the first time she stood away from the other Gryffindors. They had carefully avoided her after her walk with Malfoy the afternoon before, and even more so after she’d kissed him on the cheek before they split up to go to their respective tables at dinner. As they had predicted, many were still uncertain about what it was: did she change Draco or did he corrupt her?

It was neither, of course, but it was surprisingly entertaining to watch them squirm.

In front of them, Zabini and Greengrass seemed completely disinterested in her and Draco’s partnership, although the same could not be said for the two Slytherins that occupied in table behind them. Nott and Parkinson, when she turned around, where either smirking at her or looking mildly confused at the ease with which Draco moved around her. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by them, certainly, how distant Draco had been before she interfered, and he hadn’t told her if he’d talked with his friends about her. What _exactly_ he’d told them.

‘I’ve seen my mother play the most powerful men into compliance with the right seating arrangement and the right courses paired with the right amount of wine. _In vino veritas_ , Granger’ Draco said without ever breaking his concentration, dropping ingredients into the cauldron carefully before stirring once clockwise and then twice counterclockwise.

‘We really need to get your mother on board to move to the next step’ she muttered, trying to concentrate on passing to Draco the next ingredients.

‘The Manor is… complicated’ he said, anxiety briefly creeping on his face.

‘Because Voldemort took up residence there’

‘And Bellatrix. She’s as volatile as Potter emotionally, although more predictable in a way’ he said swallowing, something behind his words she couldn’t decipher. She understood, in part. Bellatrix was… terrifying, a wild card.

‘He’s making us look like fools’ Hermione said through gritted teeth as she watched Slughorn approach Harry and Ron’s table, peaking into their cauldron before saying something that made Harry beam.

Draco briefly raised his eyes from the brew and scoffed.

‘Calm down, Granger. Think of it as a lesson, you will have to deal with a lot of corrupt bastards that get praised for doing nothing. Take deep breaths, calm down, plan your next steps’

‘What could that be?’ she wondered out loud, making Draco chuckle lightly.

‘Slughorn is rather easy to play. He likes talent, and he likes the privilege that comes with greatness and connection. He _will_ open the Slug Club again, he’ll probably announce a dinner before Christmas, and historically purebloods got in because we’re well connected. I didn’t give it much thought _before_ , but as we’re working together, we have a secured spot’

‘Because we’re brilliant and you have control of your father’s money?’ Hermione smirked as she looked away form Harry, finding a similar expression to hers on Draco’s face.

‘Precisely. You know what he wants, what he’s looking for, channel that anger and think about how to give it to him, I’ll worry about the potion’ Draco said.

In any other context, it would have been worrying how well he was able to read her after so little time spent together, but he understood her goals. After all, she’d spent the better part of the previous afternoon opening her mind, her thought process, to him.

‘I’m not good at this’ she admitted biting her lower lip as she kept watching Slughorn talk to Harry.

She almost jumped when she felt Draco’s cold fingers on her chin, turning her so that she could face him. His thumb moved to her lower lip and pushed until she freed it from her teeth. Her heart suddenly picking up speed at their closeness.

‘Physical cues of nervousness put you at a disadvantage, don’t let them see’ Draco was so close to her his breath was tickling her face. His silver eyes were firm, and she tried not to squirm under his gaze, knowing full well that he was assessing her. One month, he’d said, and he would tell her everything about Voldemort if she could show him it could work, and if she didn’t… _no_ , she wouldn’t allow herself to think about failure.

Hermione nodded, and Draco nodded back before he went back to work on the potion. She forced herself to look down at the textbook, pretending to read while she started to think about what to do, what to say to make an impression on Slughorn. As she tried to discreetly look around her, Hermione realised how Draco not only had given her a suggestion, but he’d turned it into a spectacle for the whole class, making it clear what kind of relationship they were in. She ignored Ron’s glare and went back to the textbook.

‘You’ve flattered professors before, Granger, he’s easier than McGonagall’ Draco said dropping more ingredients into the cauldron.

Hermione nodded, she could do this. He was right, Slughorn was easy and maybe… maybe she could just be herself. She quickly flipped the pages of the potions textbook until she arrived to the index, searching for the ingredient she was looking for and looking up its property and then flipping back to the page about the dreamless sleep potion.

She approached Draco as he was stirring, pressing herself into his side as she rose on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, trying to continue the act he’d started. He slightly bent towards her, allowing her to fall back on her toes, and she appreciated it.

‘Let’s modify the potion’ she whispered, and Draco raised an eyebrow at her, platinum hair slightly dump against his forehand from the perspiration created by the fumes.

‘How so? You know how temperamental it is’

‘Yes, but it smells and tastes terrible, like damp grass’

‘That’s valerian root for you’

‘If we add three drops of lavender extract before the last clockwise stirring, then counteract its acidity on the next anticlockwise stirring with just half a gram of vanilla it should give it a more pleasant taste and smell, not by much, but enough. In theory it works, the last three stirrings are when its more stable and it should be enough to just modify taste and smell without undermining its efficacy too much’ she explained, remaining close to him, a bit uncomfortable now as the dungeons was getting rather warm, the earthy smell of the potion rather unpleasant.

‘It’s a gamble, we could ruin the whole potion’ Draco sighed, frowning at the dark green liquid simmering in the cauldron in front of them.

‘I trust your brewing abilities’ Hermione said before finally moving away.

‘Fine’ was all Draco said. He was the only one who still had his jumper on, obviously not rolling up his sleeves, not even an inch, and Hermione waited until he moved to the cabinet to retrieve the lavender extract and vanilla to cast a refreshing charm on him, as he was far enough that it wouldn’t upset the simmering potion.

‘Thanks’ he muttered when he came back, going back to work.

They were both tense as Draco dropped the lavender extract, quickly stirred, and then dropped the vanilla before stirring again once, twice, before taking the potion off the heat. They held their breath as it slowly cooled, bubbles simmering on the surface until a light purple smoke appeared. Now that they were certain the potion wouldn’t explode, they moved closer, and Hermione let Draco take out a sample.

It did smell faintly of lavender, a touch of vanilla, the colour a mix between green and purple, but the question was if it was still effective or if they’d ruined it. With ten minutes left, Hermione carefully casted the charm to show the properties of the potion in the flask.

No one was looking at them as the results flashed back before their eyes, and only Hermione saw the pride that came with their success make Draco’s eyes shine. He smirked at her, but it was a smirk she had never seen before. It was not mocking but conspiratorial, a light in his eyes that made something inside her burn in response, and she found herself smirking back at him before she even realised she was doing it.

She could do this, they could do this.

‘Alright, everyone. Time is up. Let’s see what you have done’ Slughorn called from the front of the class.

Slowly, the professor began to make his way through the tables, and Hermione watched him carefully: he praised no one but lightly scolded many, that is, until he reached Harry.

‘Very well done, Mr Potter! Impressive!’ Slughorn exclaimed as Harry and Ron smiled, patting each other on the shoulder.

Hermione could have hexed them.

How were they cheating? She _needed_ to know, it wasn’t fair.

‘Focus, Granger’ Draco said next to her, forcing her attention back to Slughorn, who had almost reached them.

‘What do we have here? Are you sure you brewed the correct potion?’ the professor asked as he sniffed the potion in the cauldron, making Hermione go stiff.

‘Of course we have’ Draco replied smoothly, ‘the dreamless sleep is a rather nice one to brew, if I say so. A bit temperamental, but it’s endearing when one figures it out’

‘Of course, of course, Mr Malfoy, but…’

Draco didn’t let professor finish, he interrupted him with smooth ease, without making it seem impolite, impressing Hermione.

‘As we worked, me and Granger were discussing more about the potion and its properties and we both agreed it has a terrible taste and smell, didn’t we?’

Hermione didn’t miss a beat.

‘Indeed’ she agreed, ‘while we discussed the process I had an idea, and both me and Draco theorised that when dropped at the right moment, some lavender extract counterbalanced by vanilla could give the potion a more pleasant smell and taste. It does complicate the process a little bit more towards the end, as it has to be done rather quickly, but it is worth the result’

‘And it worked?’ Slughorn asked surprised.

‘Please’ Draco said welcoming him to test the potion.

Hermione glanced around and saw Harry looking at her with narrowed eyes, while, behind her and Draco, Nott and Parkinson where furiously whispering with each other.

‘Oh my!’ Slughorn exclaimed snapping her attention back to him, ’truly amazing! The properties are indeed intact! You must have really quick and steady hands, Mr Malfoy!’

‘Thank you, sir. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Miss Granger intuition. It was teamwork’ he said with a small smirk on his face before turning towards her, his expression softening. She matched it.

He really was good at it, Slughorn was completely taken by their act.

‘Of course, I have obviously looked at the students records and you two always rank right on top’ he said, his eyes moving between her and Draco with greed.

‘Truly remarkable job, an Outstanding, of course’ he said before moving on to Zabini and Greengrass.

Hermione couldn’t resist, turning towards Draco with a satisfied smile on her face, to which he answered with one of his own. He slowly bent down so he could talk in her ear, his hand brushing a stand of hair that had escaped her braid away from her face.

‘I told you’ve done it before. Now, don’t be too obvious when you look, but Potter looks like he’s ready to explode and Weasley is redder than a tomato’

Hermione tried to subtly look to her left and, true to his words, Harry and Ron seemed to positively vibrate with anger. It almost made her laugh, she enjoyed it more than she had imagined, seeing them squirm in anger while they couldn’t figure out what she was doing.

As Slughorn dismissed the class, Hermione wondered why Draco was so slow at cleaning their station. He rebuffed all her attempts to help and she just resigned herself to wait for him as all the other students left, until it was just them and the professor. It was then that Slughorn approached them with a smile on his face that surly looked kind to most, but that somehow reminded Hermione of Wormtail.

She wondered if Draco had know, _how_ he had known. She made a mental note to ask him about it afterwards.

‘Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger, I want to compliment you once again for you potion, truly, truly remarkable, you’re both very gifted students, and your partnership is surely… unexpected’

‘Yes, I am sure it is. Although, I would describe it more as _inevitable_ , isn’t it right, Granger?’ Draco said with a fake smile and playful eyes.

Hermione nodded, trying to smile but not too much.

‘Yes, I’ve never met someone else so interested in theory and experimentation as I am’ she confirmed, the words making Slughorn’s smile grown larger.

‘What a delightful surprise! I expect a great deal from you now, you know. About that… I was thinking about starting back a tradition of mine, you see I host dinners with some of my most gifted students, an occasion for conversation with likeminded people interested in potions, of course’

‘Of course’ Hermione agreed trying not to grin in satisfaction.

‘I would like you two to be in attendance, I would say you can bring a plus one but I suspect you’ll come together’

‘Yes, we will, and we would be honoured’ Draco agreed, but he made no move to end the conversation, forcing Hermione to look more closely at Slughorn. The professor wanted to ask something, and Draco was giving him time.

‘Say Mr Malfoy, I wanted to express my… _sadness_ , for the events of the summer. It must be hard, suddenly being the man of the house’ the professor said and Hermione was surprised by how Draco didn’t even flinch, his expression remaining carefully friendly, spurring the professor on.

‘Yes, it was a bit complicated, so many… Gringotts accounts to manage, but I am well versed with numbers’

At the mention of Gringotts, something flashed in Slughorn eyes.

‘Yes, indeed, I myself have, _of course_ , always been good with numbers but I, too, had some difficulties this summer, and the goblins are being rather insensitive to my circumstances, as they tend to be…’

‘Given my lineage, I have a direct line if communication with the director, please do not hesitate to ask if you need assistance’ Draco said smoothly, and Slughorn nodded, extremely pleased, finally letting them go.

‘Your _lineage_?’ Hermione asked amused once they were out of the dungeon.

‘Yes, since Sirius Black’s death I am, because of my mother, not only the last Malfoy, but also the last Black. Not to mention that with my father being in prison, and my aunt having never been formally released alongside her husband, the three biggest vaults in Gringotts belong to me’ he explained with a displeased expression on his face at the mention of his father’s situation.

‘So you’re _filthy_ rich’

‘Exactly, hence why the Goblin like me’

‘So if Bellatrix and her husband were to die…?’

‘My aunt’s Black vault, and the Lestrange vault of her husband will go to me, that of my aunt’s husband’s brother as well if he were to pass away’

‘ _Oh dear_ , let’s pray for their good health’ Hermione couldn’t stop the comment from escaping her lips, her mind already _wondering_.

Draco almost snorted.

‘Even with just the Malfoy vault I have enough for everything you’re planning, don’t be greedy’

‘I’m just thinking ahead’

‘Of course you are’

They walked the rest of the way up and rejoined the flow of students. They still parted to let them pass, everyone still shocked at their newfound relationship, and holding hands certainly gave them something to gossip about. There was the occasional mean comment, but Hermione tried to pay no attention to it, and it was easy, surprisingly easy, as she was still riding the high of their success with Slughorn. Not only they’d been the first to be invited to the Slug Club, but the professor now looked at Draco as an intermediary between him and the goblins at Gringotts, it gave them power over him.

‘You really should have mentioned the way the goblin like your money’ she said.

‘Goblins don’t like getting involved in wizarding politics since the last time they did they were almost exterminated. The only guarantee is that they won’t cut out my funds, you know how goblins are’

Hermione had to agree, goblins would not be easily swayed.

She’d never held someone else’s hand, walking around Hogwarts had always been business for her before, running to class or to the library, always worrying about Harry and Ron and about quickly finding solutions to their problems while those two did nothing. Two days with Malfoy and he was already a better partner, working _with_ her. She’d never been able to split tasks with anyone else before, Harry and Ron always required constant guidance and cuddling, there was little they could do on their own, which made the whole potions business even more suspicious.

Everything was fine, Malfoy’s hand pleasantly warm in hers, his grip just right, up until Seamus said something nasty and Hermione stopped in the middle of the corridor filled with students, turning around slowly, eyes narrowing.

‘Did you just called me a _whore_ , Seamus?’ she asked, and she could see from Seamus expression how very much not sorry he was.

Without event letting go of Draco’s hand, Hermione grabbed her wand with her left one. The curse flew out of her wand without her ever saying a word. After all, since last year she’d gotten even better at small jinxes and hexes, and while everyone around them gasped and screamed as Seamus’ skin turned purple, Draco just looked at her half amused and half annoyed, the hand that was not holding hers in the pockets of his trousers as if this was but a mild inconvenience. He’d barely even turned to look at Seamus.

‘So vindictive’ he said with a smirk, leaving a light kiss on her cheek as McGonagall approached to see what the commotion was about.

‘What is going in here?’ the professor asked, her hat firmly pinned in her hair as her head moved between a now purple Seamus and Hermione, with her wand still in her hand.

‘He called me a whore’ was all Hermione said, feeling absolutely not sorry nor ashamed under the look the head of her House was giving her.

She was tired of being disrespected, of people like Seamus, Harry and Ron, who immediately turned vicious every time she did or said something that they did’t agree with. They were always complaining about Slytherins being all Death Eaters and evil, but they, too, behaved like a bunch of sheep, all going in the same direction and admitting no contrary opinion.

‘Mr Longbottom please escort Mr Finningan to the infirmary’ McGonagall said with her hands on her hips. ’Ten points deducted from Gryffindor, of course. Miss Granger, please follow me to the office of the Headmaster’

Hermione tried not to show how irritated she was, and suddenly Draco lips were near her ears once again. His cold breath stifling her anger.

‘You are angry, don’t let it corner you’ he murmured while letting go of her hand, taking her satchel from her.

‘I won’t’ she said, understanding what he was saying. Antagonising professors wasn’t the kind of attention they wanted _nor_ needed.

‘Mh’ he hummed moving away, and she could tell he was unconvinced.

‘ _I won’t_ ’ she repeated before following McGonagall to Dumbledore’s office.

As they reached the office, Hermione tried, and almost failed, not to huff at the stupid password (Wigglybeans) McGonagall had to speak to access the stairs. Dumbledore was in his office with Snape, and they were both clearly surprised to see her there. Finally getting the job he’d always coveted didn’t seem to have improved Snape’s mood in any way.

The previous afternoon, after Draco had revealed Narcissa had cornered Snape into an unbreakable vow, she had tried to think about how much Snape was involved with the Death Eaters, what game was he playing. Was he double-double crossing? Pretending to spy for the Order only to be spying for Voldermort? Or was he playing Voldemort by letting him know the Order considered him a spy only to then turn and be a spy for the Order? There weren’t infinite possibilities, but it was difficult to understand his position as she, and even Draco, didn’t know his motivations for any of this.

Hermione tried to study the Headmaster’s office to quiet her anger as McGonagall recounted the events that just transpired in the corridors. Unlike Harry, she had never been there much. The headmaster surely had an impressive collection of artefacts, but all Hermione felt was irritation.

Why was _she_ being punished? Seamus had called her a whore, and while she had expected it… she wouldn’t allow it.

Not again, never again.

‘That’s surprising’ Dumbledore said as Snape barely looked at her, clearly displeased his private conversation with Dumbledore had been interrupted. ‘You surely have been behaving… strangely, of late, Miss Granger’

Of course Harry had already talked with him. _Merlin_.

‘Am I?’ Hermione asked sarcastically, Snape rising an eyebrow at her tone.

‘Miss Granger!’ McGonagall warned her.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, should I just let men call me a _whore_?’

‘That is not what we are suggesting, of course we will have a stern talk with Mr Finnigan’ Dumbledore said.

‘Yet I’m the one being scolded. _He_ called me a whore, I was just walking to class. That hardly seems fair’

‘You turned him purple’ Snape said, and Hermione was surprised that… he almost seemed delighted by that notion.

‘Yes, if only I could have continued our verbal sparring _he_ initiated by insulting him with the male equivalent of _whore_ , oh, wait! There isn’t one, I wonder why’ she asked sarcastically, and beside the irritation, she could see that even McGonagall seemed to mildly agree, in a way.

‘Well, I am sure we can talk to Mr Finnigan and resolve the situation. I’m positive Miss Granger knows that hexing students is prohibited’

‘Of course’ Hermione agreed, trying not to roll her eyes.

‘I’ve heard you had a disagreement with Mr Potter and Mr Weasley’ Dumbledore said, and Hermione took a deep breath trying to calm herself.

‘Yes’ was all she said.

‘These are hard times, I’m sure you know how important it is to be united’ the Headmaster added while moving around his desk, a small smile on his face that made Hermione even more angry.

‘With all due respect, sir, the disagreement between Harry and Ron is not your business’

‘Of course, of course, but you’ve been through so much, being close to friends is, I’ve found, very… ‘

‘I like Draco’ Hermione said interrupting him ‘it’s so _refreshing_ not being treated like an encyclopaedia, talking to someone who doesn’t mind about my interests and who can keep up’

She swore Snape almost grinned at that.

‘Certainly’ Dumbledore said with a tight smile, his eyes briefly darting to Snape as if he’d seen the unusual expression as well ‘in such times, though, I understand why Mr Potter would be weary, it’s important to be united, prepared…’

‘Is there something you want to say about Draco?’

It angered Hermione more than she could admit to herself, the way Draco’s safety seemed to be… secondary to Dumbledore. Her mind went back the bathroom, to the day before, to Draco’s fear and desperation. If she hadn’t inserted herself, he would have been left alone. The realisation lighted a fire inside her, she crossed her arms and straightened her back before speaking again.

‘As a teacher, shouldn’t you be a guarantor our safety? Why are you constantly talking about _unity_ and being _prepared_? Surely, given the political climate, preparing us for war instead of concentrating your efforts on securing peace seems like a rather odd choice. One could think you eager to see us fight, sir. But that would be a dereliction of duty, wouldn’t it?’

‘Miss Granger, I understand your feelings’

‘ _Do you?_ ’

‘I am doing my best to make sure you are safe and prepared’

‘Maybe you should try harder’ she heard Draco’s words in her mind and was quick in changing the topic of the conversation, ‘given how many times I’ve come close to being seriously harmed, dying, my parents have grown greatly concerned. They are questioning whether Hogwarts is safe. So far the evidence is not in the school’s management favour, but given their status as muggle, they cannot request a hearing with the governors, nor write to the Ministry. Therefore, I will do my best to assure my own safety, since it cannot be guaranteed by you’

Dumbledore seemed greatly displeased by her words, but it had two unexpected results: Snape looked at her with curiosity, while McGonagall was frowning at her words, clearly turning them over in her head.

She was dismissed and she all but bolted out of the office, rage making her walk fast. As she reached the bottom of the spiral staircase, Draco was already there, her bag in his hand, his slanged over his shoulder and a cigarette between his lips. He pushed himself off the wall and followed her, not complaining about her strides nor her mood.

‘I have no idea what’s going on with Snape, but McGonagall could be in our corner’

That seemed to surprise him. ‘She’s in line for headmaster, so that’s good, what did you tell them?’

‘Just general things about the safety of the school, the worry of my parents’ Hermione reassured him as she took back her satchel from him without ever breaking her pace.

‘Could have been worse’ he muttered with the cigarette dangling on his lips, earning a stern look from Hermione that made him smirk.

‘We need to move on’ Hermione changed the topic, arguing with him would not help in any way, ‘we need to get the people close to Voldemort in our corner. What do you have? I know it’s just been barely a day, but…’

‘I hanged out in the common room yesterday. I think we can get Nott and Parkinson in one move’

That surprised her so much she stopped in her tracks. He’d reacted so weirdly when she’d mentioned Nott the day before, she wondered what made him change his mind.

‘We can?’

Draco huffed at her surprised tone, evidently trying to dismiss her confusion. ‘Yes, but that’s about it. Flint is out of the school, Montague and Pucey I need to work on some more to figure it out, and Crabbe and Goyle are too stupid to do anything of value’

His hand curled around her arm and she let Draco drag her in a closed corridor behind a tapestry.

‘I’ve done some more thinking, too’ Hermione let out a breath before saying something that had taken shape in her mind the evening before as Ginny and Ron remained at Harry’s side, not even looking at her. ‘We need to disentangle the Weasleys from Harry as much as we can. Not Ron, but Fred and George are their own kind of brilliant, and they could be useful, if anything’

‘They are agent of chaos, I doubt anyone can control them’ Draco dropped his book bag on the floor and leaned against the wall, taking a deep drag from the cigarette, smoke that smelled faintly of mint filling the air between them. At least they were wizarding cigarettes, Hermione didn’t have the will nor the time to lecture him on the effects of muggle cigarettes on his health.

‘We could push them in the right direction, in a way’ she insisted, ‘the Weasleys are close, but they don’t act closely as a pureblood family like yours do. Percy is already a rogue by all accounts and Charlie is off in Romania with dragons, while Bill is in France with Fleur’

‘Why do you want to split them?’ Draco asked curiously, and Hermione took some before she answered. In the semi darkness that surrounded them, Hermione was surprised by how quickly she’d grown comfortable with Draco’s presence. She never… touching other people never came easily to her, letting other people touch her even more so. She’d kept some distance with Krum as well, even if she’d allowed some kisses and a touch here and there. She didn’t mind Draco touching her, even if it had been unexpected like during potions. The fact that he knew what she wanted, that he hadn’t scorned nor rejected the part of her that wanted to take back control… maybe that was the reason.

‘It will make them slower to react’ she said in the end, ‘it will create some friction for when we move further into society. They have weight inside the Order because of their number and because they’re the one of the few families that survived the war without losses’

‘Which brings us back to Longbottom’ he hummed, briefly lost in thought.

‘Neville is a piece for another time. Since Ron will never leave Harry, and Fred and George left the school, I was thinking we could start with Ginny’

‘She’s practically been drooling after Potter since she arrived’ Draco scoffed taking another drag.

‘And what has _he_ done?’ she asked raising an eyebrow at him and crossing her arms over her chest.

‘Questionably gotten attached to the girl who’s boyfriend he saw die the year before’

‘ _Exactly_ ’

‘I’m not romancing the Weasley, for all intense and purposes I’m romancing _you_ ’ he leaned forward until he flicker her nose with his fingers, smirking at the way she swatted his hands away.

‘Yes, together we uniquely show unlikely unity and a new path’

‘How inspiring’ he said rolling his eyes, she ignored him.

‘I was thinking of pushing her in the general direction of a Slytherin, so that she can be close to us. Zabini seems the most fitting choice, he’s as obsessed with Quidditch as she is if I remember correctly, and he’s your friend’ Hermione explained.

‘He’s fooling around with Daphne’

‘Who according to Lavander is fucking Montague on the side’ she said relating the bit of gossip she’d overheard in the bathroom the night before.

‘ _Ah_ ’ Draco seemed genuinely surprised by that.

‘It’s alright, obviously you haven’t been able to keep up with gossip in a while’

‘Obviously’ he repeated, slightly annoyed.

His mood swings were still something she had to decipher, so Hermione limited herself to changing argument, hoping that mentioning Nott wouldn’t result in another weird reaction from him.‘Let’s go in order. First up is Nott, why Pansy with him?’

’He and Pansy are in an on and off relationship, but it’s getting serious’ Draco huffed, slightly angry now, making the spent cigarette disappear between his finger while avoiding her eyes.

‘Wasn’t she with you?’

‘Let’s just say that they both used me to make the other jealous. I take it as a compliment’ he said and it looked like he was forcing himself to look at her, his smirk strangely forced.

‘So… they’ll do anything to protect each other from their Death Eater parents…?’ she bit her lips, but she remembered Draco’s words and immediately forced herself to stop.

‘You want me to push him to commit murder, Granger? Maybe Pansy, too?’ he seemed strangely angry. It made her angry too, as if she could never do anything less than match his fire with hers.

‘I never said that! Nott’s mother died in an accident’

‘Oh, _Merlin_ ’ he exclaimed pushing himself off the wall, moving a hands through his hair. He hand’t gone back to the gel, Hermione hoped he never did, he looked far better without that cow-licked style he had preferred for so many years.

‘We just need… to push them aside, Nott and Parkinson Senior’

‘It would force Theodore and Pansy to take the mark and it’s not… a nice process, not to mention Theo and Pansy would rather run than do that’ he exclaimed as if he was explaining something obvious, making her even more angry ‘Granger… are you suggesting _Imperio_? Because that…’

‘No, no!’ she almost screamed in the end and, to her surprise, Draco sighed in relief. ‘Listen, we need to offer Theodore and Pansy an alternative. You know that! It’s all I talked about yesterday!’

‘Yes! I am aware!’ he huffed ‘but if you want to control their parents through them, they would need access to their respective homes, which is hard to obtain, given we can barely leave the castle’

Hermione paused at that. He was right, she couldn’t… they couldn’t have everything immediately, and being at Hogwarts was a disadvantage for certain things. This was definitely one of them.

‘Do you remember the coins we used for the Dumbledore’s Army?’ she wondered out loud, and Draco nodded, ‘what if we modify them?’

‘It will take time’ he said shaking his head, and Hermione was about to scream at him to propose something else when he actually did, surprising her. ‘Maybe that room you used, the Room of Requirements, it doesn’t seem to follow Hogwarts’ rules. Maybe we can create a connection. Death Eaters don’t meet fairly often, and more than an Imperio, we could rely on other… darker behaviour-altering spells?’

‘You know many of them?’

‘No, but we could study some of them. It will still take time to get clearance for the restricted, or even having books from the Malfoy library though my mother’

‘You have a _library_? How big is it?’ she asked unable to stop her curiosity, she’d never met someone who owned an _actual_ library. He must have had dozens of books on magical theory, his family was ancient after all…

‘Granger, focus’ Draco said with a surprising small smile.

‘ _Right_. We can butter them up alongside other Slytherins in the meantime. Any ideas on how to do that?’

‘As a matter of fact, I do have one’


End file.
